Tuesday, August 11, 2009

I'm so cranky, I'm annoying myself

My dog is so dumb, I am ready to just open the door and let him go. No kidding. So Jay was cleaning out the food scrap bin that has been sitting in the back yard for God knows how long because it is my turn to clean it out and really, I just don't fucking care, and I forgot about it, and I batted my eyes and told him I loved him, and maybe I threatened him a little, long story short, he went out to clean the thing. Apparently, some meat was in there and it had gone bad, like bad bad. And even though Jay poured dish soap over it, and even though he told our 6 year old son to shut the back door, which he didn't do, Charlie ate all the rancid food that was in the food scrap bin. The rancid food that has been sitting in the food scrap bin during the hottest fucking summer ever. So Jay walks into the kitchen and notices someone has actually shut the door but shut the dog outside, and the dogs whole face is brown with all the rancid crap. Of course, Jay points out that he is of course my dog, and I just look at the dog and look at Jay and say,

"Put him down, it seems fucking easier and I just can't deal with this shit right now"

but then miracles upon miracles happen and what should I hear, "When you walk my way, hope it gives you hell", oh my glorious ring tone! So I run and take it, and I have to take it because it's a phone call regarding soccer, which I am a board member for. So I talk and talk, while my husband so nicely washes the dumb dog, and cuts off his beard, and sends me to Petco to buy out their Greenies, which our dog won't eat, and doggie cologne, which he now runs from whenever I pick it up.

Luckily, he stayed with my mom that night because I could not have dealt with him. Hell, I can barely deal with myself.

I love the dog, I really do. But in the list of importance, he is dead last. First comes the kids, then Jay, then the dog. Where do I fit in? I'm a mom, sillies, I don't matter. Only men add themselves to their "Important" lists.

9 comments:

As much as I love my husband, I have to admit this is true. Its in our nature to put everyone first, before us. Thing is - we should be on the top of our family's list too. You ever been sick for longer than a day and unable to get out of bed? All hell breaks loose, doesn't it?

Yay for Jay on cleaning up the doggie disaster... I felt sick just thinking about it. Bleh. What is this "food bin" thing? We have a garbage disposal. If we didn't, Jason would DEFINITELY be in charge of that. :)(Sorry Jay!)

Don't you have food scrap bins? It's basically a food compost bin our city provides, along with recycling containers. I'm not kidding, our garbage bill is $18 a month and we have the tiniest garbage can in the world, even with 5 people. We use maybe 1 sack of garbage a week.

Finally another person who understands my sick sense of humour. When our 'lovely' dog (heavy sarcasm) ran out the back and promptly rolled around in a another dog's fresh shit pile...I honestly thought that putting the dog down would be easier than washing off dog shit. Thank god for husbands, he grabbed the outdoor hose and washed him off...of course it was in the middle of winter. But I thought any dog that would be that stupid deserves to freeze his ass off in 30 something degree weather with cold ass water sprayed all over. It took days before he stopped shaking.

Seriously... we know nothing of these food bins here either. We just like to toss it in the dumpster with everything else and ruin the planet. Apparently Washington likes to save the planet. /sigh. ;-)

seriously...men suck. they just do. I cooked a kick-ass meal tonight. Do you think any of the men in my house could clean up afterwards? Ya know,.."Honey, you cooked us a great meal..let me and the boys wash the dishes while you sit in the hot tub, drinking champagne and eating bon bons."....but NOOOOOOOOOOO.

I'd like to point out that this is in no way my dog, and it was conditional in getting the dog that I would be absolved from any and all responsibilities surrounding it. Meaning washing that thing was essentially a giant favor you now owe me for.